


For The Greater Good

by notionally



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Angst, Heavy Angst, M/M, seriously don't complain about the MCD it's literally in the tags, this doesn't have a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-10 02:53:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18929824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notionally/pseuds/notionally
Summary: “You fuckingshotme,” Jinyoung says, spitting the words across the room at Jaebum. He tries to sit up in bed, but his shoulder sears with pain in protest.Jaebum sinks into the chair in the corner of the room, head in his hands, fingers dragging through his hair. “I had to,” he says. Looks up at Jinyoung, pleadingly. “For the greater good.”But Jinyoung doesn’t get it.





	For The Greater Good

 

 

“You fucking _shot_ me,” Jinyoung says, spitting the words across the room at Jaebum. He tries to sit up in bed, but his shoulder sears with pain in protest.

Jaebum sinks into the chair in the corner of the room, head in his hands, fingers dragging through his hair. “I had to,” he says. Looks up at Jinyoung, pleadingly. “For the greater good.”

But Jinyoung doesn’t get it.

“You _shot_ me,” he repeats.

It’s the last thing he ever says to Jaebum.

  


 

* * *

 

  


At least, until he hears a knock on his door, one day many years later. He scrambles up from the sofa, snatches his wallet from the dining table where he’d left it, ready to pay the delivery guy for his pizza.

Then he yanks the door open, and there Jaebum is.

“You’re not pizza,” Jinyoung says.

Jaebum smiles sheepishly at him, all lopsided grin and floppy fringe and too-big shirt hanging off his stupidly broad shoulders. It’s been so long, and still the sight of him tugs achingly at Jinyoung’s heart.

“I’m not pizza,” Jaebum replies. Stupid, stupid.

“What are you doing here?” His heart needs to stop hammering. It needs to stop. “Are you here to shoot me again?”

Jaebum grimaces, like it’s too soon for that joke. Even though it’s been, literally, years. “No,” he says, because he was always too earnest for his own good. “But I need you to come with me.”

Here’s what Jinyoung wishes he’d done: laughed in Jaebum’s face, then slammed the door.

Here’s what he does instead: He follows.

  


 

* * *

 

  


“I still don’t understand why you guys need me,” Jinyoung grumbles. He folds his arms across his chest, glares around the underground bunker he had once been so familiar with. It surprises him, how quickly and easily it starts to feel like home again.

“Because it’s a seven-man job,” Jackson says brightly. He beams at Jinyoung from across the table. “Also, we’ve missed you.”

_Tell your boss not to shoot me, then,_ Jinyoung thinks. But he doesn’t say anything. He just glares at Jaebum, and he knows he’s made his point clear. Jaebum scrunches up his face, rubs at the back of his neck guiltily.

Jinyoung has to admit, he’s missed this. Feeling like a part of something greater than himself. Part of a team with six other idiots — they may be highly-trained agents but they’re still idiots — just trying to save the world and all the innocent fools living in it. The past few years just hasn’t been the same, trying to adjust to life at a desk job, punching numbers and pushing paper around. Simple, boring, ultimately meaningless.

“Fine,” he says. “I’m in.” Tries to ignore the way Mark grins at him, sharp canines coming into view. Or the way Yugyeom looks so happy he might cry. But most of all, he tries to ignore the twist of affection in his chest.

  


 

* * *

 

  


“You’re getting back into the swing of things really quickly,” Jaebum comments.

Jinyoung hums to himself, testing the weight of the gun in his hand. It’s a newer model, lighter, easier to handle. But he’s not quite used to it.

“I grew up in this life,” Jinyoung points out. “I’ve had a gun in my hand longer than not.” He holds it like he’s ready to shoot, one finger on the trigger, the other hand supporting the stock. Turns the barrel to Jaebum.

The safety’s on, and the gun isn’t loaded anyway. But it’s never comfortable having a gun pointed at you. Still, Jaebum doesn’t even flinch. Just stares down the barrel of the gun at Jinyoung.

“I’m sorry I shot you,”  Jaebum says.

“No you’re not,” Jinyoung replies, coldly. “Sorry means you wouldn’t do it again. Would you do it again?”

Jaebum doesn’t say anything for a moment. But he doesn’t need to. Jinyoung knows him well enough to know what the answer is.

“It was for the greater good, Jinyoung,” he says. “That’s what we’re in this job for — the greater good.”

Jinyoung puts the gun down. “I thought you loved me.”

“I did,” Jaebum replies. He looks at the gun sitting on the table between him at Jinyoung. “I do.”

A bitter laugh escapes Jinyoung. “Yeah,” he mutters darkly. Picks the gun up, turns to put it back in the cabinet. “Me too.”

  


 

* * *

 

  


“You’re sleeping together again, aren’t you?”

Jinyoung throws his fist into the punching bag. The contact is clean, and the sound of it rings through the air. He turns around.

“Yeah, so?”

Jackson sits down on the press-up bench, staring up at Jinyoung with his wide-eyed gaze. The one that Jinyoung’s never been able to hide anything from.

“Do you love him?” Jackson asks.

Jinyoung turns away. Throws another punch into the punching bag. The contact is less clean this time, and his knuckles graze of the edge of the bag, sending him off balance. He stumbles, holds onto the punching bag with both hands to steady himself.

“He loves you, you know,” Jackson says, when Jinyoung doesn’t answer. “He never stopped loving you.”

Jinyoung leans his forehead into the punching bag. It smells tangy, like sweat and blood. Familiar. Comforting. “Jackson,” he says tightly, “what do you want from me?”

“You guys shouldn’t sleep together if you’re in love,” is what Jackson says.

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It makes perfect sense,” Jackson replies. “Sex is one thing. Love is another. Put them together, and there’s no space for anything else.”

Jinyoung releases the punching bag, turns to face Jackson. “Yeah?” he asks. “And what else is there?”

Jackson holds his gaze, steady and unwavering. “Duty,” he says. “Duty.”

  


 

* * *

 

  


It’s freezing cold, this deep into the mountains. But still sweat beads on the back of Jinyoung’s neck. He isn’t moving, isn’t blinking, is barely even breathing.

“We don’t have time,” barks out Mark’s voice in his ear, tinny and too sharp.

“I don’t have a clean shot,” Jinyoung hisses out. He’s trying his best, he really is. But the target keeps moving — ducking and weaving and always keeping something in the way.

Someone in the way.

“If he gets to the control panel to detonate, we’re all screwed,” Mark snaps. “The whole world is fucked, you hear me?”

“I fucking _get it!”_ Jinyoung’s hands aren’t shaking. He’s the best at what he does. He can find a clean shot. He can. He just needs to wait for it.

“Take — the fucking — shot,” pants out Jaebum. Across the cavernous underground hall, Jinyoung sees him fling himself at their target. They’re mere feet away from the control panel.

“I don’t have a clean shot!” screams out Jinyoung. His nerves are frazzled, more frazzled than they’re ever been in literal years of this job. He can’t breathe. His lungs can’t expand enough to bring air into his body.

He’s good at what he does. But so is Jaebum. Jaebum can handle this. He doesn’t need Jinyoung to help him.

“I beg you.” Jaebum’s voice in his ear. All of them can hear it, but this message is meant for him alone. Jinyoung clenches his jaw. His fingers tighten around the gun in his hands.

Jaebum can’t handle this. Jinyoung can see it, in the way his movements aren’t as fast as they usually are, in the way he winces in pain with every punch he throws. Getting stabbed in the thigh and the shoulder will do that to you.

“I can’t,” Jinyoung chokes out. “Jaebum, I can’t.”

“You have to,” Jaebum says. “You have to. For the greater good.”

_For the greater good._

Realisation crashes into Jinyoung. It hurts, more than anything he’s ever known. More than getting shot. More than walking out of Jaebum’s life. More than walking back in again.

He suddenly understands what Jaebum had felt like, all those years ago, and the realisation is horrifying. But he gets it. Why Jaebum had been able to look dead in the eye of the man he loved, and pulled the trigger of the gun, just to get at the man behind him.

_For the greater good._

Jinyoung exhales slowly. Steadies his body. The last time, he hadn’t understood. But he had survived.

Jaebum looks at him. Their eyes meet. Maybe Jinyoung’s imagining it, but he thinks Jaebum nods.

_For the greater good._

Jinyoung pulls the trigger.

This time, Jinyoung understands.

This time, Jaebum doesn’t survive.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> hahahahahahahaha idk why I did this I'm the worst,,, I've had this idea in my head for a long time and I originally envisaged it as a long chaptered fic, but I couldn't bring myself to invest so much time and energy into something with a sad ending, so here you go, the angsty one shot no one wanted except me :>
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/notionxally) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/notionxally)


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